


A Second Chance to be Good

by GirlDressedInBlack



Series: One Last Chance [5]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Let's hope my writing has improved since that mess before this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2018-12-22 05:45:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11960937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GirlDressedInBlack/pseuds/GirlDressedInBlack
Summary: The Mistress doesn't easily slide back into the role she had once almost taken, eaten up by so many deaths and all the destruction she had committed just to try and drown it out.Hurting himself from the Mistress' grief and madness the Doctor and Nardole track the Mistress' last companion to a stable point in her time stream and request her help with the Mistress.Florence agrees in a heartbeat, travelling backwards with the two to help the woman she had spent most of her life with.I'm not sure if you could read this without 'One Last Chance to be Good' but you can give it a go if you like because I honestly don't think it's much worth to read that looking back, haha!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I couldn't resist sticking Florence and her family back into the mess of Missy's life when I kept getting little moments in my head of various characters interacting and all the relationship stuff I could explore. This is possibly the most selfish thing I've ever wrote, haha!
> 
> Also FlorencexMissy is 1000% canon for this fic if you were left with doubt after One Last Chance to be Good.

The Mistress finally stops throwing things at him and that’s when the Doctor really begins to worry, looking at the shattered pot by his left foot. He nudges the pottery and it clacks together.

He’s removing the pottery from now on for both of their safety’s.

“Doctor?” She asks, voice tremulous and small.

It’s only the fifth day.

How are they going to survive the next almost 1000 years of their lives?

“Missy?” He asks, voice gentle.

“I miss her.” The Time Lady says, swallowing before picking up again, “She made me good Doctor- I miss her. She was good.” The Mistress says, sounding bewildered despite having admitted this to him even when comparatively sane.

“Not really.” The Doctor sighs, “She didn’t really make you good. She tempered you a little, took away some of your crueller traits. She made you better but not good.” The Time Lord states wearily.

When this doesn’t bring a new torrent of objects rushing towards him the Doctor chances a look around the table he’s sheltered behind.

Opposite him the Time Lady is sat in a crumpled heap, legs splayed and hands smoothing out all the little creases in the fabric of her skirt. Her lips are parted in concentration as she focuses on the floor in front of her. By her side is a shattered clock, the glass pooling from its front.

Her eyes find his easily, so blue and young he struggles to breathe for a moment.

“I want to see her.” She insists, folding her legs in.

The Mistress has been cycling through this about three times a day so far. The Doctor hates it- hates having to explain it to her again, watch her face fall into despair and hold herself together and remember herself and just go silent.

“Missy.” He says softly, standing slowly and crossing to her.

“Missy.” He says again, gentle as he rests a hand on her knee and looks into her eyes, still eerily piercing even when she’s drifted from reality.

“Missy- I’m sorry.” He says.

“She’s dead. Daleks. You told me- you keep forgetting but you killed them all. You couldn’t save her Missy. I’m sorry.” The Doctor says carefully, frowning.

There’s a flicker of horror and pain which passes over the Time Lady’s face, quickly schooled into emptiness.

“Oh. Yes. I remember.” The Mistress says, focussing properly. Quietly she stands and picks up a chair.

She sets it back on its feet without sound and sits on it.

The Doctor looks up at her and wants to hold her. 

He doesn’t.

Instead he sets about cleaning up the vault, sweeping up the broken things and righting the furniture.

 

“It’s my fault you know- all mine- I did it.” The Mistress sneers, leaning into his view. 

She’s not particularly tall or menacing, barefoot with her hair down and in a nightgown but all the same he would rather not be laying prone on the floor with her in this mood.

The Mistress crouches down, looks into his face upside-down and smiles a horrible smile.

“I’ve told you haven’t I? Bananas!” She sings, to her feet in moment.

“Bonkers!” She shouts, pacing around him.

“Mad!” She states in that cockney accent she enjoys.

“Crazy- loco- insane- unstable- wrong- broken- dirty- unhinged- cruel- evil- a bitch- vicious- the universe’s fuck up! The worst Time Lord! The Nightmare of Rassilon! Horror incarnate! The End Song! War! Pain-giver! Queen of Evil- Destroyer of Hope!” She cries out, each phrase delivered in a different voice, getting more and more grandiose as she goes on, ripping to a crescendo that sounds delivered by a wild dog if such a feral thing had a voice box and could gesticulate so extravagantly. She steps just out of his reach, seeming to have forgotten he’s there.

The Doctor attempts to stand in her distraction.

She notices anyway and kicks his legs from under him easily.

“Pop.” She teases, face overtaking his vision as she tilts her head to the side, eyes wide as she grins.

“I have been called  _ all _ those things.” The Mistress emphasises. She waits, holding her breath.

“But. You know what else I’ve done? More than any of those labels?” She says, lips parted as she stares at him, unblinking.

The Doctor doesn’t answer, not wanting to upset her any further.

She smirks, standing again, towering above him.

“ _ Worse  _ than any of those labels?” She asks, “Do you know?” Her voice is soft, dangerous.

The Doctor sighs.

“You didn’t try-” He starts exhausted.

“WRONG!” She shouts, looking oddly joyous.

“Wrong! Wrong! Wrong, wrong, wrong!” The Time Lady repeats.

“I killed them. All of them!” She cheers like a cartoon villain, arms raised to the air and a caricature of happiness on her face.

“ _ All  _ of those people I loved  _ so  _ much! All of those beautiful hearts! All of those people I still love! I killed them all!” She leans to the side, swivelling on her heels.

“Because I’m evil.” The Mistress says, act dropping as she lets her arms fall and looks down her nose at the Doctor.

“You’re lucky I haven’t killed you.” She spits, “Not for lack of trying.”

“Missy.” The Doctor hisses as she just walks away from him.

“Missy!” He shouts and she stiffens and oh- Rassilon he regrets it but it’s done now.

“Missy.” He repeats more gently and she turns, crying.

“I killed them Doctor. The people I love. I’ll kill you too.” She sniffs, lips trembling.

“Oh, Missy.” He utters, rolling over and pushing himself to his feet, glad she hadn’t really been intending to hurt him.

“I killed them all because I’m evil.” The Mistress says, voice somehow quite steady despite her distress.

“You aren’t evil Missy. You’ve never been evil.” The Doctor soothes, crossing to her and pulling her into him.

She almost claws at him in her desperation.

“Don’t lie. Don’t lie!” She whispers, voice hitching against his chest.

“I’m not.” He says quietly, “If you were evil- really evil- you wouldn’t have cared at all in the first place. I’ll help you get better. You know that- don’t you?” He asks, holding his best friend as she breaks down in his arms, fully aware of the new bruises she’s given him.

“Please, Doctor, please!” She begs, pressed tightly to him. 

Neither of them are sure what she wants but the Doctor sighs, and walks her over to the bed.

“Come on.” He says gently, sitting her down. She complies easily, hands pressed against the edge of the mattress.

The Doctor crouches so their eye level is matched. He rests a hand on her knee and squeezes lightly, smiling sadly.

“You didn’t kill any of them, Mistress. Not a single one. They were too precious to you- you did your best to protect them. Remember that.” He says, knowing it’s what she needs to hear in this state of mind.

She sniffs, looking away and the Doctor lets her.

“Try and rest now.” He suggests, softly nudging her shoulder.

The Mistress follows the movement, laying down carefully and letting him pull the covers over her.

“I’ll be back down later with some food.” He says, tucking her in better.

“Okay?” He asks, smoothing a piece of hair behind her ear.

Missy nods, lips thinning.

The Doctor stands and she just stares up at him like she’s a child.

“Please.” She asks, fingers just touching his.

The Doctor smiles, slipping their palms together and running his thumb over the back of her hand.

“Okay. I can’t stay for long though. You know that, right?” The Doctor clarifies.

Missy nods, taking her hand from his and laying it over the blanket.

The Time Lord pulls up a chair and sits beside her head. He takes her hand in his and she rolls over to face him, one hand beneath the pillow. She closes her eyes and the Doctor can feel her drop into sleep quickly, her hand going limp in his. 

The Master had always had a lot more control than most over their body.

The Doctor never tells Missy but he’s afraid of watching her sleep as much as he appreciates that she trusts him enough.

The things he sees are rarely pleasant and even the things which should be are tainted by horror.

Today she dreams of daleks and her companion dying and their daughter in her arms and laughter dissolving into tears. She dreams of blood and viscera and screaming and the deaths preluding them being too clean, too surreal to believe.

The scenes impress themselves in his mind and he sighs, feeling wrong to be seeing all these secrets she wouldn’t ever be so honest about when awake so explicitly.

Eventually he has to leave- there’s essays to mark and food to buy and Nardole to quieten.

He places her hand beneath the covers and lays a kiss on her brow, leaving her to her nightmares for a while, sighing in resignation.

 

The Doctor sighs in exasperation.

“I just don’t feel any remorse for it!” The Mistress says, shoulders rising and forehead creasing in a shrug as she blows out her lips.

“They’re just inferior- I didn’t care and I don’t care. They were more interesting in death than in life and barely enough to hold my attention for a millisecond at that. It’s about the power of holding their itty-bitty lives in your hands.” She summarises.

“But how?” Asks the Doctor, truly unable to understand her lack of guilt, “How can you just not care about all the people you’ve killed- not have even the slightest touch of compassion- and yet love the people you choose to so dearly?” He asks, frustrated, head in his hands as he slumps over in his chair.

The Mistress turns her head away, still laying back in the chaise lounge.

The Doctor realises his mistake almost instantly, cursing under his breath.

“Missy- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that- you know I just. I can’t understand Missy. It’s just. It’s alien to me.” He says apologetically, hating himself for it.

“Please leave.” She says coldly.

The Doctor frowns, stands and walks across to her.

“Missy. I’m sorry.” He murmurs gently, going to lay a hand against her shoulder.

She moves away from it, still not looking at him.

“Leave.” She says firmly. Her voice trembles only slightly, her shoulder a little more.

The Doctor nods, swallowing down his apologies.

He’s thankful that at the very least she has learned to temper her violence over the last sixty years.

That or he’s hurt her too badly.

He walks slowly across the floor, footsteps echoing in the silence between them. It hurts him to hear her cry quietly, obviously trying to hide it from him. He gets stuck just before the doors, wiping his hand across his face to remove his own tears before he sees Nardole.

“Florence would have understood. She always did.” The Mistress says wistfully, softly.

“But I killed her.” Her says, voice breaking finally.

The Doctor pushes himself out, uncaring of Nardole seeing his guilt as his best friend in the universe breaks into sobs, distraught because of him.

“Sir?” Nardole asks, squinting at the Doctor’s face as he slides down the closed vault doors.

“Not now Nardole.” Says the Doctor, voice low as he brings his hand across his face again.

Inside the vault the Mistress is curled up on the chaise lounge, head in her arms and chin against her chest as she tries to stop the sobs wracking through her and her guilt.

“Are you having an emotion?” Nardole asks curiously, bending down a little to peer into the Doctor’s face.

“ _ Nardole _ \- not now.” He orders.

The metal man stands back, hands in the air.

“Okay. I get it. No need to get all cross.” He says defensively. 

The man sighs, putting his hands on his hips.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks, raising his brow and looking down at the Time Lord looking as human as anyone.

The Doctor raises an eyebrow, glancing up at his minder.

“Would I-” He asks incredulously, sputtering slight in indignation despite his sorrow. 

Nardole only tilts his head.

“Would you?” He asks again, still staring at the Doctor.

The Doctor just stares at him in utter confusion.

“Fuck it.” He says clearly.

“Oi! Language!” Nardole warns, slapping the Doctor’s arm lightly as he slumps down next to him.

“What would your humans say? What would your  _ wife _ say?” He asks, crossing his arms and looking reproachfully at the Doctor.

The Time Lord scowls, staring at the wall opposite.

“My students wouldn’t care and you know River has worse language than me.” The Doctor says, successfully brought out of his moping.

“That is  _ very  _ true.” Nardole says.

“Now- what’ve you both done this time?” The metal man asks.

The Time Lord explains.

Nardole turns out to be quite the listener when the Doctor lets him.

“So.” He says when the Doctor has finished, fingers entwining and separating in anxiety the whole time, “Obviously what we do is we pick up this human from a stable point in her timeline and bring her in for a chat. The Mistress gets to see her- we wipe the girl’s memory, drop her back and everything’s just fine.” Nardole says, shrugging.

“No.” The Doctor says firmly, “We can’t just pick her up and dump her in this mess- she’s human. She’d probably break or something- you know how they are. I don’t even know how Missy would react- she could do anything from eat her alive to have her worst break down yet. You know how unstable she is.” The Time Lord reasons.

Nardole stands, laying a hand on the Doctor’s shoulder.

“Well. Just tell me when you want to do this incredibly stupid, dangerous thing that will probably go enormously wrong.” He says chirpily, grinning.

The Doctor sometimes wishes his wife hadn’t found him such a great friend.


	2. Chapter 2

Florence stares in bewilderment as a blue box lands in the middle of her kitchen, wheezing like it’s ill. She only just manages to keep hold of her glass, fingers tightening on it in shock.

_ She’s _ ill.

The human corrects herself, automatically feeling the once familiar brush of a telepathic sentient being against her mind.

Something about it is off though.

The veneer of a police box is so out of place and just doesn’t have the usual elegance the Mistress’ Tardis was inclined to. The presence in her head too is strange- more gentle but less ordered- skippy almost- like a pup. Somehow there’s something innately sexy about it despite that. 

With a confused expression she places the glass well away from the edge of the counter.

“Doctor?” She calls out, hand resting against the polished countertop as she stares at the doors.

“Is that you? What are you doing here?” Florence asks, a feeling of apprehension growing in her chest.

Why would he come to her?

They’ve barely met and not in the best of circumstances any of the times it happened. It’s not like she had the Mistress locked away in her basement. 

It’s not like she  _ has _ a basement but that’s quite irrelevant.

The groaning noise comes to a stop and the door creaks upon a fraction. 

The Tardis’ presence gets stronger and Florence presses fingers against her temples.

The Mistress’ Tardis was not this excitable. It’s quite overwhelming but the human manages to tamp down on it, bringing her long unused shields up just enough to dull the noise enough to notice the frowning face peering around the crack between the doors.

“I didn’t get the wrong place, did I?” He says, clearly nervous.

She smiles at him, wincing a little at the remnants of her halted headache.

“You do know that she sounds quite ill when you leave the breaks on.” Florence says, half thankful that her family aren’t here to feel distanced from her by the siren’s call of the biggest period of her life and half wishing they were here to see the Tardis for themselves. 

Her children might even be able to feel it a little bit- she’s been training them a little, guiding them a lot more gently than the Mistress did her.

“The Mistress did it once and the Tardis rearranged her wardrobe for it and hid all her books on arts and crafts.” She continues, smile brightening as the Doctor’s mind seeps across to her. His mind is so different from the Mistress’ and yet there’s this underlying history which underpins both of them that feels like her early memories of the Mistress when she was just learning how to control her mind and feel other’s presences.

So he’s different but just so close is some ways that she can’t help but feel like he’s already her friend.

Except there’s this undertone of solemnity and guilt and affection which was not this strong any of the previous times she met him.

So she’s glad her family aren’t here because this is serious and whatever it is she can’t get them mixed up in it until she knows it would be safe.

Her smile drops and she stands up straighter.

“Would you like some tea?” She asks mechanically.

The frisson of pain that goes through the Doctor makes her grimace a little.

“Yes. Tea would be good.” He says, equally as toneless.

And the Doctor sits at the small table in her kitchen, looking quite awkward in his burgundy velvet suit with his hands resting in his lap.

Somehow the suit seems wrong. Florence realises that the colours are all slightly off- not all from the same set obviously. The effort seems strange- if he was going to wear a mismatched suit why not come in clothes clearly more comfortable to him?

And then the human realises that he’s trying to look something close to respectable for her and she forces another smile on her face which comes out as a lot more fraught than she intends as she breathes in deeply through her nose.

“I’ll just boil the kettle- I don’t imagine you have the same standards as the Mistress?” She asks.

“No.” The Doctor replies, voice low.

What the hell has he done?


	3. Chapter 3

Florence goes through the motions of making tea. They are silent except for the customary queries of ‘Sugar?’, ‘Milk?’, ‘Lemon?’ and the brief responses.

The Mistress would have been scandalised if she was watching Florence make tea the way she does when the Time Lady isn’t around to insist upon a full tea set (often with assorted tiny cakes and sandwiches).

The Doctor watches her make tea, either observing her or completely looking through her.

“Thank you.” He says, taking the offered mug.

He places it down on the table, making an approximation of a smile.

“So. You’re probably wondering what-” He grins falsely, eyebrows raised in a painful attempt at humour.

“Don’t pretend. I can feel you in my head.” Florence cuts him off, staring into her own tea and willing herself to not drink until it’s cooled.

The Doctor’s expression drops like an undercooked sponge cake.

“Ah.” He says, looking vaguely chastised.

“So talk.” The human demands.

The Time Lord’s head descends into his empty hands as he rubs at his temples. He looks up a little to meet her gaze.

“You’re going to hate this.” He states honestly, not a single fragment of doubt in his words. 

For a moment his eyes look so much like the Mistress’ that it gives her pause.

“I guessed. Tell me.” She says firmly yet gently, knowing how much Time Lords will spend hesitating and second guessing given the opportunity.

“Right.” He says, eyes flickering back down at his cup of tea, “There’s no easy way to say any of this.” He says, looking back up to her.

Florence rolls her eyes.

“Get on with it before I take it straight from the front of you mind where it clearly lives.” She says, sipping her too-hot tea and ignoring the burn.

The Doctor curls his fingers around the handle of his mug, stopping when the human raises an eyebrow.

“Okay.” The Time Lord says, lowering the drink back over an illustration of a boat.

“I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news but in the future you die. Missy can’t stop it and believe me she’s tried.” He says, fingers knitting together.

“Right.” Says Florence, drawing in a breath.

Her mind is faltering, trying to figure out whether he’s referring to the future or her past. Either way the best option is to reveal nothing.

“You don’t seem too panicked.” The Doctor comments, eyebrows drawing in as he inspects her face.

“It’s just part of the lifestyle. I knew that from the start. I told you as much all those years ago when the Mistress pretended to shoot me. I’ll always die at some point anyway- even you will die someday, Doctor.” She explains, looking away.

“The Mistress.” Florence says, looking back at the Time Lord, “How is she?” Her fingers linger against the mug’s porcelain surface, pinpoints of heat not able to distract from the huge wash of- GUILT- ALL MY FAULT- GUILT- BROKEN PROMISES.

She gasps a little, swallowing hard as she pushes her shields up more forcefully. The Doctor must feel the absence because he stares down into his tea, drinking from it.

“Sorry. I’ve never been good at that.” He says woodenly.

Florence nods, willing her heart rate down as she blinks away tears.

“God- you hurt almost as much as the Mistress did on some of her worst days.” She says, lifting the mug to her lips with a slightly trembling hand. The human drinks, feeling the warmth travel down her throat.

“I know.” He says sadly.

“The Mistress. You probably know of her past; all the atrocities she’s committed, all the people she’s killed. She went back to that after you. She got caught by the wrong people. They were going to execute her but I managed to save her. I’m protecting her.” The Doctor’s voice is low as he gazes at the tabletop, slowly slipping from one sentence to the next.

Florence nods, biting her lip slightly and looking at the Time Lord’s fingers where they pick at each other nervously. She rests her hand over his, stilling both the tremors in her own and his movements.

He flinches a little and the human lifts her hand away, not apologising.

“It’s been a long time. She’s not very well and sometimes… Sometimes she forgets things and I have to remind her.” The Doctor states delicately.

“Oh.” Says Florence, wrapping both hands around her mug and entwining her ankles as she slips her feet backwards under her chair.

“Yes.” The Doctor says gravely, wetting his lips.

“She’s been asking for you and I’ve really messed up. I can’t understand her and if you agree to come I’d have to wipe your memories afterwards. I just think it would really help her to see you.” He pauses between each sentence, the words obviously weighing heavy on his hearts. 

The man stares at her hopefully.

Florence turns the mug around in her hands, eyeing the rippling liquid.

“I have my family.” She says quietly, gaze fixed on the drink.

The Doctor is silent.

“I need to call my husband in case…” The human trails off, eyes drifting away to the other side of the room.

She holds the Doctor’s gaze, looking back to him.

“But in a heartbeat. I’ll do it for her.” Florence says certainly, placing her half finished mug of tea on the table.

“Put them in the sink if you aren’t going to finish your own.” She says, gesturing to the drinks as she stands, “I’m calling him now and then we’re going straight away.” Florence says, already half way through the doorway. 

For seconds the Doctor stares at her, bewildered with the speed with which the woman reacted and planned. 

Then, slowly, he stands and makes his way to the sink to wash out the pair of mugs.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally updating- sorry for the wait :P Uni is kind of demanding, haha!

Florence breathes out a shivering breath, standing over her vanity. Hair hangs between her and her reflection as she stares down at her phone, back curved as her hands press into the tabletop.

“Fuck.” She whispers, remembering the Mistress’ strange behaviour over the last few visits. 

Does she know?

What order is she visiting them in? Has the Time Lady who visits them already been cared for by the Doctor or is the one he’s taking care of already visited them?

Florence looks up at her reflection through the veil of hair and sighs again, feeling tears prick at her eyes in frustration, worry and no small amount of guilt, second-hand from the other Time Lord in her kitchen.

No.

No point thinking about that.

She won’t know until she’s there.

All she can do now is what she can and what she must.

Florence picks up the phone and clicks through the contacts, pressing the call button before she can distract herself.

She holds her breath now, putting the phone to her ear as it rings.

“Hey?” Asks the voice on the other end, clearly with a confused smile.

Florence smiles despite herself, the small expression flickering back down as her forehead creases.

“Hey.” She responds eventually and sighs.

The voice waits.

Florence breathes in again. She can hear the person on the other end doing the same.

“It’s about the Mistress.” She admits when she’s able to, knowing that she’s not been hung up on despite the pause.

“I can’t- I. I just-” The human tries, pulling at her lips and swallowing.

“I know.” The voice says, calm, “I know. You have to do this. I’ll take care of everything.” It says, clearly worried.

Florence sniffs, swallowing a cry.

“Thank you. I’ll- I’ll try to-” She whispers, hand not holding the phone going to her forehead.

“I know.” The voice says quieter. 

There’s a pause.

“Stay as safe as you can, alright?” It asks.

Florence sniffs again, smiling a little as she manages a laugh.

“Yeah. I’ll try- should only be a visit. I love you though- and the kids- if all goes well I’ll be back before I’ve even left.” She says, trying to reassure herself.

“You too.” The voice replies.

“Bye Aaron.” Florence says shakily, fingers tightening around the phone a little.

“See you later Florence. Tell me how it goes, okay?” He asks gently.

“Yeah. Bye.” Florence whispers again, ending the call and standing for a moment before her mirror, phone held to her lips as she gathers herself back up.

It would definitely be okay. It’s just the Mistress- all she has to do is talk to her.

She breathes out a shaky breath.

Florence swallows again and waits for the trembling to calm.

  
  


The Doctor looks at the human as she stands beside the T.A.R.D.I.S doors, unwilling to move further in and not showing even the residual awe that seasoned companions show to his ship. 

He supposes that her travels with Missy curbed that wonder a little. Part of him worries it’s also due to the knowledge that she’ll die in the future.

They settle down again, the Doctor having taken the breaks off to ease their journey a little.

Florence hasn’t talked much since she came back down other than to tell him they could go. 

The Doctor goes to put a hand on her shoulder but pulls it back, movement cut short by uncertainty.

The human stills regardless, right hand just brushing the door.

“Are you okay?” The Time Lord asks. Care lines his tone and Florence’s fingers curl slightly into a fist. Although the Doctor can’t see it her eyes flicker downwards for a second and she releases some of the tension.

She can read the  _ ‘you don’t have to do this if you can’t’  _ and the  _ ‘it will be difficult’ _ in his voice as easily as if he had spoken them.

“I’ll be fine.” The human says firmly, feeling anything but that past the mess of nerves and worry and second-hand guilt.

She goes to push the door and the Doctor does take her shoulder this time, gently squeezing.

Florence turns around for his guilty expression. He releases her as soon as she starts to move, dropping his hand and his gaze.

“When I said I was protecting her, “ He says solemnly, “I meant that I’ve had to hold her in near solitary confinement- it’s been about sixty years. I- I didn’t want to but if I didn’t they would have somehow found a way to kill her and she told me that she would do it if it saved her life- if we could be friends again. Rassilon- to be able to help her recover even a bit- when they were a child they held so much good. I just know it’s there somewhere-” The Time Lord begins to babble, self-annoyance and distress like a beacon that Florence has to shade her mind from lest the extreme emotions blind her. 

“I know.” She says simply, cutting him off with a frown as she processes everything he’s said.

He stops, uncertain and sad and worried and so, so hopeful.

Florence hesitates for a second.

She steps forwards carefully and takes his right hand on both of hers, squeezing it in a brief message of comfort.

“I love her too.” She admits. There is no touch of doubt or falsity in her mind as she lets the corners of her lips turn up and drop his hand.

The human turns and takes in another breath for courage then pushes the door open.

Beyond it are another set of doors going far higher than the Tardis. They have a strange pattern on them which she could probably translate if she wasn’t so worried about the Mistress.

“Oh- you’re the human then?” Asks a short man near the door. Florence looks at him in confusion- frowning a little not at being patronised (you got used to being looked down upon for being a human when you travelled the same roads the Mistress did) but at the curious tone he’s taking- as if he isn’t worried at all about where he is, what’s in that room or even being caught.

Said human pulls herself up to her full height, raising one eyebrow as she gives the man a disdainful look.

“What of it?” She asks, tone clipped.

Florence refuses to move further to acknowledge him, head tilted upwards. After a moment of deliberation she looks down on him, eyes narrowing.

“Actually. Who are  _ you _ ? And what are you doing here? I was under the impression that you had this area under control Doctor?” She snaps at the Time Lord over her shoulder.

He smiles awkwardly, stepping in front of Florence who tilts her head slightly.

“Ah- this is Nardole.” The Doctor explains, still smiling that odd, nervous smile.

“I forgot to tell you- he’s helping look after Missy. He helped me save her.” He is quick to add.

“More like doing your real job while you go a teach the smelly humans about space.” Nardole gripes.

Florence relaxes a little, expression dropping to a worried frown as the two aliens bicker. She can feel the Mistress on the other side of the door and hear the piano playing faintly. The emotions she reads make her want to drop her shields instantly and reveal herself to the Mistress but she knows she can’t. It isn’t worth the risk of overwhelming her.

The woman raises her shields, sealing off her mind as completely as she can.

This is enough to catch the Doctor’s attention again as he seems to sense the disappearance somehow and turns to look in confusion.

His whole manner changes as if caught doing something wrong by a teacher and he clears his throat a little.

“Well. I suppose you would like to see her then.” The Time Lord says, awkward smile back on his face. He pauses momentarily, eyebrows descending as the corners of his lips pull down.

“Would you like one of us to come with you?” He asks, stepping past her to fiddle with the lock on the door. 

“No.” Florence replies almost instantly, “I’ll- we’ll be fine.” She says, her hands finding each other and twining their fingers.

The Doctor nods, still focused on the lock.

They all wait in silence for a few moments  before the Doctor opens the huge doors. He stands in them for a moment. Missy doesn’t turn to look but Florence can tell by her posture that the Time Lady is just sulking.

There’s a dark trill from the piano as if to emphasise the fact that the player isn’t listening.

The Doctor looks to Florence and steps away, allowing her to move in. He doesn’t close the doors yet.

For minutes the human just stares at the Mistress, heartbeat speeding up as she takes in everything she can about the Time Lady.

Finally she speaks.

“Mistress?” She asks, voice quivering and pitching up more than it has any right to.

The Time Lady snaps to attention faster than a diving bird into water, almost coming off her stool with the force as she looks her gaze on Florence. 

Her eyes are pain and fear and worry and guilt and disbelief and confusion and so intensely blue that Florence can’t help but swallow, feet faltering and bringing her one step forwards before she can stop them. She almost drops her shields in that moment. 

The Mistress stares at her for only a second and yet forever, face crumpling like a wet paper bag, lips parting as she looks at the human. Her hands claw into the piano stool for balance, her eyes shining.

Everyone breathes or forgets to, uncertainty swallowing them all- even Nardole.

Then it snaps as the Mistress tumbles from the stool in a movement almost graceful in its desperation. She lets out a cut off cry as she charges for the human, running for her too.

They grasp each other tightly, hands digging in but neither caring about force. 

The Mistress relents eventually, eyes closed and head pulled against Florence’s neck as she trembles. Her hands drop to circle the woman’s back, resting against her hips as she breathes in deeply, nuzzling deeper into the human’s neck. Florence does the same, arms wrapped around Missy’s shoulders and head nose against the Mistress’ skin as they just hold each other.

“You’re real, aren’t you?” The Mistress asks in a shaky, whispering voice which hurts Florence’s heart.

She squeezes back extra hard, nodding as she gasps in a breath to speak.

“Yes. I am. I’m here Mistress.” She says, her voice quavering too.

The Mistress shudders.

“I thought I’d killed you.” She says in that same broken tone.

“No. Never.” Florence replies, feeling the tears slip down her face between their skin. 

Neither of them notice the door closing.

“Good.” Says the Time Lady, voice cracking in the middle as she tries to pull her companion even closer.

The tears itch against Florence’s skin but she just leans in closer, uncaring of the slow dampening of the back of her shirt.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally updated with some gay for Pride month, haha! Sorry for the wait and I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Next chapter should be on the 12th of August.

Florence lets the Mistress hold her as tightly as she needs, squeezing her back just as much, but she feels a strange restraint even as the Time Lady shudders in her arms.

“You know I won’t break, don’t you?” She says softly, running a hand up and down the Mistress’ back.

The other woman is cold, enough to make Florence shiver a little as she nods against her skin.  _ Was she always this cool to the touch?  _

She can tell the woman is trying to speak though and presses a soft kiss to the side of her neck as encouragement.

“What?” She whispers, eyes closed as she waits for the other to talk.

The Mistress gasps a little, arms tightening a fraction with the press of Florence’s lips.

“It’s- I- I’ve hurt so many people. I thought you were dead. I’d killed you. I’ve hurt you before- what if I hurt you again?” Between every sentence her breath catches and she swallows, Florence feeling the small movement with how close they are pressed together.

“I know. You told me. It’s- I don’t want you to hurt people who don’t deserve it but- it’s you. I feel like I could forgive you anything. I- I understand. If I didn’t know that you were alive every day without you I think I would… Well, it would be. Bad.” Florence says, gently pulling them apart but leaving one arm firm on the back of the Mistress’ back as the other hand moves to hold her face. She looks into her eyes, thumb gently moving over the reddened skin as she sweeps away another tear. The human’s lips part as she stares at the other woman, expression moving to mirror hers. 

The Mistress doesn’t move her gaze, lips parting too, captivated.

“You’ve been through so much. It’s not your fault. He- the Doctor. He’s trying to help you and I’m here now. You were-  you were so good when- we were together. I know you can do it again. I know you can. I’m here now. You cope with things by hurting things and people. The Doctor can help you find other ways. I know he can.” The human whispers, resting her forehead on the Mistress’ and smoothing her thumb over her skin. Her other hand comes up to cradle the back of the Time Lady’s head, fingers in her hair.

Missy stares back at her as if she hung every star in the universe.

“You.” The Mistress says, incapable of anything more.

“Besides- if you hurt me it’s because I asked.” Florence adds with a slight chuckle, warped by the emotions clogging her throat.

The Time Lady’s hands press firmly as they move up her back to her shoulder blades and loop around her neck. She pulls her forehead back, looking desperately into Florence’s eyes. She shivers, eyelids lowering as her lips try to form words.

“I-” She says, breathing fast.

Florence waits, knowing how fragile the woman is right now. Her gaze drifts to the Mistress’ lips and she pulls it back up to stare back into Missy’s eyes which flicker down to her mouth.

“I want to kiss you.” The Mistress finally says, voice disappearing into nothing with tears still tracking down her face.

“I want that too.” Florence whispers back, leaning in closer and looking up into the Mistress’ eyes as she feels the other woman still momentarily.

Missy looks back over her and in that moment Florence sees all the small changes that have passed since the Time Lady had seen her last. There’s a layer of fear and nerves over her face which she had never seen this strong. The woman’s hair is dishevelled and her clothes aren’t as put together and clean cut as Florence last saw her in. The apprehension in her eyes is still too much, as if she can’t believe that Florence really wants this.

The human closes her eyes and softly curls her arms back around Missy’s neck, bringing her cheek to press against the Time Lady’s.

“You could do anything to me.” She whispers.

The Mistress chokes on another sob, turning her head to the side and finding Florence’s lips. She trembles, grip fierce as she pulls the human’s face to hers, fingers wound tightly into her hair.

Florence brings a hand up to nest in the Mistress’ hair and the other to her waist, pulling her closer as she twists one leg around the Time Lady’s.

Missy presses their lips together hard, tongue desperately curling against Florence’s as she breathes in through her nose.

Florence open her mouth wider and runs the tip of her tongue against the roof of the Mistress’ mouth, letting the other woman lower them both to the floor as she presses herself as close as she can get, so warm against the Time Lady’s chill touch.

They pull apart for a moment, the Mistress kneeling on the floor with Florence almost wrapped around her, skirts pooled around her thighs as her left leg curves around the Mistress’ hip, the right folded beside Missy’s left.

Florence pushes herself upwards, seeking another kiss, needing more, but the Time Lady just pulls the human close, tucking her head under Florence’s chin and sobbing openly. 

All Florence can do is hold her, eyes closed as she untangles her hand from Missy’s hair and runs her palms over her back.

“It’s okay.” She murmurs, crying herself.

“I’m here now.” She soothes as the Mistress pulls a little too hard at Florence’s hair, letting herself go with the motion.

Missy presses wet kisses against Florence’s skin, some open mouthed and some with a hint of teeth as she trails up her bare throat.

“Mistress.” Florence breathes out.

The woman pushes her down to the floor gently, one hand uncurling from Florence’s hair and fumbling with the buttons on her shirt.

Florence moves a hand to block it.

“Mistress.” She asks, fingers wrapping around Missy’s, “Is this- is this what you want?” 

The Time Lady drags her gaze up to the human’s face.

“I- I just.” The woman whispers, taking her other hand from the human’s hair to cup her face, “I just want to be as close as possible.” She says, eyes dropping back down to her fingers where she’s grabbed hold of Florence’s blouse.

“I’ve thought about you so much while I’ve been in here.” Her voice is hoarse as she relaxes her hand, letting it rest over the human’s chest as it rises and falls quickly under the influence of her desire. 

The Mistress settles down beside Florence. 

She carefully pulls against the other woman’s hip so their bodies press together, front to front, both laying on the cold floor.

The Time Lady, drags her bottom lip through her teeth as she takes in all the changes in Florence’s face; the beginnings of wrinkles she’s seen form over and over again, the slightly paler tone of her skin from a rather more sedentary lifestyle than they’d lived together, the barest suggestion of having gained weight.

“Rassilon- I was awful for you.” She chokes with a self-deprecating laugh as she runs a thumb over Florence’s cheekbone.

“I didn’t think you looked so run down when you were with me but look at you!” The Mistress says, trying to put fake cheer over her guilt.

Florence catches her hand again.

“No.” She states as she brings the hand to her lips and presses a gentle kiss against the Time Lady’s knuckles.

“You don’t get to beat yourself up like that. I loved every year I spent with you- I wouldn’t have done it otherwise. Things are different now- I’m married. Kids. I love them. I love you. I- there’s.” Florence sighs as she stumbles over words.

“I want to show you everything- everything that’s happened since you left. The Doctor doesn’t know how the timeline works for us because we’re so tied up in knots but I think it might help you sort it through.” She says, ignoring how much she wants the Mistress and that the Doctor is going to wipe her memory at the end and the floor is really not comfortable.

Missy opens her mouth to speak but frowns, shutting it again as she seeks out Florence’s gaze.

“I can- if you want- I can take my shields down and you can see it. It’s been a while so…” Florence trails off.

“I’ll be gentle!” The Mistress agrees, hand already sliding up to rest against the human’s temple.

The woman can’t help but laugh, tucking her face against Missy’s chest as her hand finds her waist.

“Rassilon- I love you.” She chuckles.

“It might take a little longer than that- it’s been a  _ very  _ long time. How about the couch at least?” Florence suggests, still laughing as she breathes in deeply and aligns her memories with the reality, remembering the two of them entangled just like this so many times before.

“You do have a couch right?” The human asks. She finally pulls herself up and inspects the surroundings and Missy comes with her, eyes not straying from Florence’s face for a second.

“Yes.” Missy says fondly, “The Doctor has made sure I’m quite comfortable in my prison cell.” And for once the Time Lady realises that she can speak of it without bitterness.

Hell- if being trapped in a single room for sixty years with her guilt and no realistic way to drown it out was enough to see Florence alive again then she would happily live here for at least another fifty.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be on the 14th of October.

The Mistress sits on the sofa, cross legged and facing Florence who sits similarly in front of her, legs bent beneath her. The human reaches over, taking a single breath in and out before blinking her eyes open. Her fingers press lightly against the Time Lady's temples and she looks into her eyes.

"Ready?" She asks, as much to herself as to Missy.

Her heart races as the other woman stares back at her, so much swimming in her eyes that Florence is worried that she'll be lost in it.

"Always." The Mistress says, gently taking Florence's face in her right hand. She swallows.

"Okay." Florence murmurs back, shuffling a little closer. The human guides Missy's head forwards and brings their foreheads together, eyelids flickering down again as she feels the Mistress' mind so close to hers.

There's a hum on anticipation which she can feel so close and a nervousness although she can't discern the words to its song with her shields still up.

Then in the space between seconds she tears her walls down.

The noise is deafening, Missy's mind buzzing everywhere, drowning everything out like the sudden shock of being submerged and in a whirlpool. Distantly she feels her body give way, collapsing and there's so much of everything. She can hear so many voices, unfiltered and out of focus, layered until none can be understood and they disorient her even more as she struggles to figure out which direction is out.

Flashes of words catch her, leaping across her mind like electricity and diverting thought.

Then something snaps and Florence jolts upwards, gasping for breath, confused vision finding the blur in front of her that must be the Mistress and almost falling into her again.

"Florence!" Bites through her thoughts and she look up, eyes unable to decide where to look and agree on it.

"Mmm." She hums, words not quite coming out in a way which is simultaneously terrifying, amusing and frustrating.

"I'm so sorry- I- I didn't know how out of practise you were. I just dragged you down and I didn't mean to- I'm sorry." The Mistress says, words much easier to understand than the human's attempts.

She scoops Florence up again, face in her hands and runs a thumb over her cheek, analysing her with a look which is slowly coming into focus for the human.

"I- I'll try and hold back." She promises, desperation in her features as she clings to the woman leaning heavily against her.

"It's- it's okay." Florence manages to get out, pushing herself up a little with a hand beside the Mistress' hip, "I took my shields down too fast." She says, her other hand finding Missy's shoulder.

There's a pause between them as Florence looks up at the Time Lady, breath still coming fast.

"Are you sure?" The Time Lady asks eventually, eyes still holding on to the desperation although her expression betrays far more of the worry she's feeling.

"Yes. I'll go back to the first few hours." Florence says, already finding herself again escaping from the Nethersphere in her mind. She stops, catching the memory as it plays.

"I'm ready." She says, nodding although her eyes are closed at Missy.

The Mistress takes in a breath and supports the human, fingers gentle against her temples.

"Is that okay?" She asks. Florence can feel a tendril of the Time Lady's mind stretch out to hers and prod at her surface thoughts. The human nods again, feeling the differences between the developing and very human minds of her children and husband and the vastness of the Mistress'.

"Yeah. That's fine." Florence says belatedly.

She finds the memory and throws herself into the strange buzz the Nethersphere had to it, the hum of millions of other people around you. Moments later the Mistress appears beside her yet not beside her. She knows that the woman is there and can see her but she can't alter the tracks of her memory, sending her through the motions of her life after the Time Lady.

She remembers grief stained days where she sat inside and hours upon hours of irritation with the primitive knowledge she was expected to work with. She remembers loneliness and having to relearn how to communicate and so many arguments about everything she'd forgotten about the people in her life. She remembers joy too, her work, her kids, her husband and millions of other small moments which shine like water in the morning sun between confusion and frustration and guilt.

All of it passes in the blink of an eye, Missy computing the information faster than anything humans have developed.

Florence feels her linger on different moment; the first job she got which didn't feel pointless, the birth of her children (which brings out a pang of something bitterly sad in the Time Lady), the first time she met the man she had married, their wedding, meeting with her grandparents several times and most of all her own meetings with the Mistress every week and the Mistress playing with her children and the Mistress chatting with her husband on a warm afternoon.

And then she draws back and it is enough that it pulls Florence free of her memories and back to herself where she releases a held breath.

The Time Lady's eyes are shining, wide as her lips part slightly and she drags them between her teeth. Her cheeks are slightly flushed as she breathes evenly.

"That's. That's my future." The Mistress says softly.

Florence smiles slowly.

"Yes. I thought it might be." The human admits, feeling her grin grow wider.

The Time Lady justs laughs a little, pausing then beginning again, joy spreading across her face.

"Only nine-hundred and forty years left." She says, laughing more. The sound turns bitter and she sighs.

"I'm sorry. It's just- it's going to be an incredibly long time and you- you're human." Missy whispers, eyes closed. She swallows, resting her head on Florence's as the human sits up properly.

"I've always been human, Missy." The woman says, closing her eyes too and bowing her head to place it against the Time Lady's chest.

Again they fall quiet, just holding each other, just breathing.

"I don't want to go through that again." The Mistress whispers into the human's hair, arms wrapped around Florence, "I don't think I can-" She starts, voice breaking off as she gasps a little, shuddering.

Florence is silent, arms sliding around Missy's neck and waist, tucking the Time Lady's head into her shoulder.

"How many years will I have to spend without you?" The Mistress says, voice low as she disentangles herself and looks her ex-companion in the eyes. Her own are rimmed with red, the blue shining like ice as she wets her lips and makes an attempt at smiling which falls flat.

"How long before you die, Florence?" The Time Lady asks, lips thin as her fingers clutch at Florence's shoulders.

She cries openly now, tears slipping down her pale face.

Florence looks away, hugging herself.

"I don't know." She whispers to the floor.

"We'll figure something out." She says to Missy, not much louder, "I'm- I've seen so much in my travels with you. I'll work something out." The human says, feeling more certain as she says it.

The Mistress says nothing but nods, not wanting to upset Florence when she's only just seen her again.

"The Doctor's going to wipe your mind at the end of this." The Time Lady says after a while.

Florence nods, sitting properly in Missy's lap by this time, right arm curled around her waist and head on her shoulder.

"You think I can fake it?" She asks, fingers playing with the thin hair at the nape of the Mistress' neck, breath warm against the Time Lady's neck.

The Mistress laughs a little, affectionately laying her cheek on Florence's head.

"Maybe... He's never been good with mental manipulation and if he tries to use some kind of device set to human you're quite a bit more capable in that area than most humans." Missy says, smiling contented for now.

"Hopefully." She says more quietly.

"Hopefully." Florence agrees, her other hand coming up to rest between Missy's hearts.

The human smiles softly, eyes closed, as she feels the slight pick up of the Time Lady's heart rate.

Gently she lifts her head and presses a kiss to the corner of the older woman's lips. Her eyes are fixed on the Mistress'. She moves closer, cupping Florence's face and pressing their lips together properly, tongue gentle as it brushes the human's.

They pull back again, Florence tilting her head back as the Time Lady turns her hand and softly runs her knuckles over Florence's cheek, down her neck and further still, fingers brushing the curve of her breast through her shirt as it travels down, feather-light to rest curled over her thigh, eyes questioning, honest and wanting as they stare into the human's.

Florence brings their lips together again in answer, touch light against Missy's cheek.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter on the 16th of December.

Florence sighs, exhausted as she sits down on the bed after checking on the kids, needing to make sure that they're okay just one more time.

"Long day?" Aaron asks, teasing as he rolls over to face her, arm extending in an offer she takes without thinking. She pulls herself into his chest, wrapping her arm around him in return.

"Yeah. About double the length of a normal one." She responds, joking yet honest as she smiles back at him wearily.

"Thanks for today." She says, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

He shifts, left arm curving around her back as they just breathe, his head in her hair and her head against his chest.

"How did it go?" He asks eventually, voice blurred by the call of sleep.

Florence brings her right arm to his chest, idly tracing shapes against his skin as she takes a breath and swallows.

"It was. It was intense." She murmurs eventually, eyes closed as she pulls herself a little closer to him for the comfort, "She's unwell. You know how bad her coping strategies were- I've told you before- and she's trying to get better but she's thought I was dead the whole time. I don't know how long it's been. Her friend's trying to help her but he's not really well himself." Florence explains, sighing.

"He's been so wiped out by looking after her and teaching at a university- can't even keep his lessons straight according to the Mistress. They've even got a servant of some kind to keep an eye on them both but he can't keep an eye on them both all the time." She continues.

Aaron sighs too.

"They're lucky to have you too." He says, arm around her head as if he can protect her from the stress with it, "When are you going back?" He asks after a moment of quiet.

Florence stills again, wetting her lips.

"I don't know. We didn't talk about it. He- the Doctor was meant to wipe my mind before I came back. I don't know if he forgot or changed his mind but I didn't want to remind him." She explains, filling her lungs and expelling a long breath.

"They'll want you to see her again. Tomorrow or the next day. They need you Florence." He says seriously, pushing them apart a little to cup her cheek and smile warmly.

She smiles back more sadly, eyebrows dipping in the middle.

"But what about you? What about Helen and Annelise? You need me, don't you?" She asks, her hand coming to rest on his cheek too.

Aaron shakes his head in amusement, shuffling forwards to press his lips to hers and kiss her tenderly.

"Always. We'll always need you." He says when they part, kissing her forehead and each eyelid.

"But." He says with a sigh, "They need you too. And the girls miss Missy. She's late visiting this week. I'm sure they'll be glad to know she's mostly alright. Hell, they'll probably enlist me to help them make biscuits and cards for her tomorrow or something." Aaron says with a huff of laughter. Florence laughs a little too, knowing that it's more than likely with her girls.

"Yeah." She agrees.

They both lie in bed, staring at each other and smiling.

Florence pulls her arms back to herself and frowns a little.

"Ah." She says, trying to find the words for what she's about to say, uncertain even though she expects Aaron will take it well. He frowns back, eyebrows lowering in concern as he strokes his knuckle over her cheek, brushing back some stray hair.

"Ah?" He asks.

Florence diverts her gaze from his eyes, instead tracing with it the shapes in the wallpaper. She sighs again.

"I had sex with the Mistress." She says, swallowing as she feels the heat rise in her cheeks and the prickling of tears in her eyes.

His touch on her cheek stills, turning to hold her face again. She can't see the concern on his face as she swallows again, fear running through her.

"She- she didn't hurt you, did she?"

"No. No- she didn't." Florence can't reply fast enough, horrified by the idea.

"And you wanted it, didn't you?" He asks, never more serious.

"Yes!" She responds in a rush, "She wouldn't- never-" Florence flounders.

Aaron wraps her in his arms again.

"Then what are you crying for? Didn't you enjoy it?" He asks, one palm rubbing up and down her back, the nightshirt hitching up with every stroke.

"I- yes." She sputters, "But you- I love you. Aren't you? She was my past and you're my. You're my now." Florence tries to explain, confused as she pulls away slightly to look into his face.

Aaron smiles at her gently.

"You love me but you love her too. I've seen the way you look at each other- I'm surprised you didn't make your excuses to the kids and head off when she first found us." He says with amusement.

"But-" Florence protests, "She was my past. Don't you- aren't you jealous or upset or something?" She asks, nervous even though he's done nothing that should make her feel that way.

"You're the only one for me but we're lucky, Missy and I, you can love both of us. She's your future too now." He murmurs into her hair, pulling her close again.

Florence sighs, releasing the tension she's been holding and wrapping herself tightly around him, leg hooked over his.

"I love you so much." She whispers into his chest.

"I know." He murmurs back, one hand still moving up and down her back, "Now get some sleep in case they come to pick you up in the middle of the night." He teases, head in her hair.

* * *

The Doctor sighs, leaving the vault for the evening with the Mistress comfortably wrapped up in her bed.

"How is she then?" Nardole asks, curious, "No biting this time?" He asks, eyebrows raised as he watches the Doctor slump back against the doors.

"No. No. All fine. She had dinner, passed over the knife and fork with no complaint or threat, took a bath without flooding the place or requiring me to sit there with her the whole time and then just went to bed. No whining. No worrying." The Time Lord says wearily but glad.

Nardole's eyebrows raise even higher.

"And she wasn't hiding anything up her sleeve?" He asks, disbelieving.

The Doctor grabs his chin and thinks for a second.

He turns to go back in then stops.

"Wait. No. I checked. Nothing in either sleeve or inside her shoes." He summarises.

"Oh! That's rather lovely then!" Comments Nardole, pleased that they can have an early night tonight at least, grinning at the Doctor, "I'll see you tomorrow then!" He says, waving as he heads off.

"Wait." The Doctor says again, reaching after the android who stops, turning back slowly.

"What?" He asks suspiciously.

The Doctor fixes his gaze on him.

"What do we do if she acts up just to get us to bring Florence around again? What if this was just a way to get what she wants so she'll do it whenever she doesn't get her own way?" He asks, worry clear on his face.

"You're right- she could be." Says Nardole, turning again.

The Doctor stumbles after him, grabbing his arm.

"What do we do?" He asks, panicked.

Nardole shakes him off.

"We get the human in again. Not like it has much else to do. It's a boring planet." The man says unconcerned, shrugging.

"But she has a life that isn't all this. Kids, married, family. We can't just expect her to give that up. I can't let another human give up Earth just for a Time Lord even if it isn't me they're giving it up for." The Doctor says gravely, eyebrows descending on his face as he frowns.

"It'll work out." Nardole says dismissively, waving his hand as he heads off again.

"Now if you will excuse me- I'm off to get a normal amount of sleep for the first time in decades and you should do the same." He says, marching up the steps and leaving the Doctor with his moral quandary in the basement.

The Doctor stays outside the Vault, back pressed against the doors as he thinks about what he's done. At the early hours of the morning he makes the long walk back to the TARDIS to rest for a few hours before his lectures.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter should be on the 17th of February.

Months go by without any contact. Florence and Aaron don't forget about the visit but it gets pushed aside in favour of more important things at the time like shopping for groceries and picking the kids up from school. The girls are still somewhat disappointed when their weekly stories from Missy remain missing but as with most young children they quickly move past it, time spent making up their own stories or drawing pictures for the Time Lady's inevitable return as they see it.

So by and by the humans' lives go back to normal, slipping into the Summer properly and edging into the chill of Autumn.

The leaves are scattered on the floor in the strong winds and start to shift from greens to ambers and reds before they hear anything from the Doctor.

* * *

The Mistress seems to try harder to be better. She still struggles with basic moral decisions which don't relate to herself or aren't supposed to be solved simply with logic but overall she's…

Trying.

In more ways than one.

* * *

She relapses still but she seems to come out of it quicker, more fully, seeming somewhat sheepish behind the way she snaps at Nardole and him and their 'fussing' (in her words). The Time Lady seems to be learning from all appearances, idly checking her nails as she spouts something the Doctor had always wanted her to understand.

It feels hollow somehow, the way she pulls away from him now, insisting on doing things herself rather than forcing the Doctor or Nardole to do things for her. He is of course very glad that she isn't trying to throw herself at him in some misguided attempt to get him to loosen up.

Still he can't help but worry at the way she reserves herself that she isn't taking it seriously or that is losing herself to it. He would like to say that he doesn't know which is worse and he would say that to anyone else but he can't lie to himself.

The Doctor is worried.

To be more accurate he is guilty on so many different levels  _but hasn't that always been the case_?

And there's only one real course of action he can take because Nardole would dismiss his worries as something that doesn't need action yet or Missy playing mind games.

The Time Lord sits at his desk in his office, head in his hands and looks out of the corner of his eye at the TARDIS waiting patiently in the corner like a beautiful monkey's paw.

He knows it will probably end badly if he keeps dragging the human back into and out of Missy's life but he knows that he's going to do it anyway.

* * *

Florence starts, the knife in her hand jolting against the chopping board before she lets it clatter to the worktop, thrusting forwards as it slips perilously close to the edge of the counter and her feet.

"Shit." She mutters when she's caught her breath, knife handle pressed against her stomach.

The human sighs in relief, adrenaline still shooting through her as she places the knife down carefully this time, well away from the edge of the counter.

"Sorry." The Doctor murmurs as she turns to face him, "Didn't mean to scare you." He says, offering a somewhat sad smile as compensation.

Florence is just about to ask why he's here, hoping that the answer is the one she's been waiting for when the kitchen door bursts open.

"Is Missy here?", "That doesn't look like the TARDIS!", "Who's  _he_?", "Is he Missy?"

A torrent of questions spill from the mouths of her daughters and Florence can hear her husband following as Anna tugs on her hands, steps on her toes and looks at the Doctor upside-down, making an odd humming sounds as the blood rushes into her head.

The mother laughs a little, pulling her daughter up to sit on her hip with an unexaggerated groan. Anna really is getting too big for this.

"Got you!" Aaron roars, grabbing for their other daughter who is eyeing the Doctor suspiciously. He scoops her up and she giggles, struggling in his grasp to keep sight of the Time Lord.

"Daddy!" She complains around the moment that Aaron notices the unfamiliar man.

His eyebrows raise a little as he shifts his precarious hold on his child to something more stable, seeming a little wrong-footed himself.

"Ah- I'm." He flushes a little, unsure what the protocol is for when a strange man you've never met but your wife seems to know appears in the kitchen. His eyes drift to the blue box behind the Doctor as he shuffles a little closer to Florence, lowering Chelsea back to the ground a little, arms tiring quickly of holding the almost nine year old.

"I presume you're the Doctor." He says, a lot more certainly than he feels.

The Time Lord gives a grimace that is meant to be a smile.

"Ah- yes. I am." He agrees, both staring at each other awkwardly with no idea how to proceed from there.

Thankfully Anna cuts in.

"Mummy- who's the Doctor?" She asks, going to stick her fingers in her mouth. Florence gently bats them away, unthinking as she looks down at her daughter.

"Well you remember how the Mistress said she had a very old friend?" Florence asks, looking over at Aaron to catch both girls nod, Chelsea looking towards her mother now, "Well the Doctor is the Mistress' best friend in the whole wide universe." She explains, bouncing Anna a little on her hip like she used to do when she was far lighter.

Anna frowns.

"But you're Missy's best friend?" She questions, seeming disappointed as she pats her mother's chest, "Forever and ever. That's what Missy said." Anna complains.

"Did she?" Florence asks, somewhat amused as she smiles at her daughter though she has no idea how to respond.

The Doctor is suddenly crouched down to Anna's head height.

"Your mummy is Missy's favouritest person in the whole world. She told me that too!" The Time Lord says, eyebrows raising in an approximation of excitement.

At this declaration Chelsea pipes up, "You know where Missy is? We haven't seen her for ages and ages!" She whines as Aaron puts her down, a hand resting on each shoulder either to hold her back from ambushing the Time Lord or for his own support in the very strange situation.

"I do." The man says gravely, uncertain, "She's not very well so I'm looking after her. That must be why she hasn't come to see you." The Doctor tells them, hoping to calm the kids down.

Obviously it is precisely the wrong things to say as the children instantly start worrying and insisting to see her and Florence knows that Missy hasn't met them yet in anywhere except Florence's memories and the Doctor doesn't know this and if he's coming to see her then that must mean that Missy is worse again and if she is then is it good for her to meet her children or her children to be around her?

Thankfully for both the confused Time Lord and the mildly stressed mother Aaron takes Anna from Florence and begins to herd Chelsea out of the room.

"Come on- let's give mummy and the Doctor some time to talk and we'll see what they say. The Doctor has just got here after all and you jumped on him." He says gently, one hand on Chelsea's shoulder as he ushers them both out of the kitchen door and shuts it softly.

"We didn't jump on him!" Florence hears Anna protest as her children are lead away.

She sighs, turning back to the chopping board and picking up the knife, feeling its weight in her hand again, solid after the surreality of the last minute or so.

"How is she?" The woman asks, bringing the blade back down on the carrots again. No matter what happens the fact that it's her night to cook doesn't change, nor does her rule of only one takeaway a week.

The Doctor sighs too and Florence hears a chair scrape just slightly on the ground as he sits down.

She can almost imagine him putting his head in his hands. His hair certainly makes it look like he does that a lot.

"I don't know." He says honestly, "She seems okay but sometimes I just think it's too much- too soon." The Doctor murmurs, interspersed by the crack of the knife against the wood.

Florence is quiet, not quite understanding and hoping that the man would somehow fumble his way to what he's trying to say as she acclimatises to having two far stronger minds than she's used to around her (although she supposes that the TARDIS has a mind only in the most abstract sense).

"I don't know if she's just saying what she thinks I want to hear to get out before she's ready or if she's changing too much. I want to help my friend, not destroy her." He manages to get out after a few false starts.

Florence starts peeling the potatoes, gently slipping them into a pot of cold water when she finishes with each one.

"My daughters. They miss her." She says after a while, not sure what the purpose behind her saying it is. Maybe she wants him to make a decision.

"I know." He rumbles and then quieter, "I didn't know that she was so close to your family." Then quieter still.

"Do you think they would be safe with her?" He asks.

Florence stills in her work, laying the peeler down.

"Always. I would trust her with their lives." She says after the barest hesitation, realising that it's true.

Even if she doesn't trust this younger Mistress with guarding their lives out of personally valuing them she knows that she would never let Florence lose them.

She turns around again and the Time Lord sighs, lifting his head a little.

"I suppose you should go and get them then." He says, not moving further.

Florence can't help the sad smile as she passes him, wiping her hands on a tea towel as she does.


End file.
